


Slipup

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Infinity War, Language, Mild Angst, Mild Humor, Protective Tony Stark, Scene Rewrite, Tony loves Peter, Tony’s nicknames, and he slips up once, guardians of the galaxy shenanigans, if you know what happens, ironstrange if you squint reeeaaally hard, strange is amused, the donut ship scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 14:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18523375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: “I swear to you, I'm gonna french fry this little freak.” The muzzle of the gun pressed harder to the side of Peter’s head, tilting his neck over. The eyesights of his suit narrowed, flinching slightly.Oh, hell no. “Let’s do it—you shoot my son, and I’ll blast him, let’s go!” The lower half of Tony’s arm slid into a sizzling weapon of his own with a menacing growl of metal.”(Or, Tony makes a fatal mistake and no one lets it go)





	Slipup

**Author's Note:**

> I have no self-restraint. This makes OTHER scenes so much worse. I’m sorry. XD I saw a YouTube comment on a video for these two and it made me write this.
> 
> I’d love to hear any feedback about what ya liked though! Thank you for reading!

Tony wasn’t exactly sure how this day could get any more fucked up.

And then a crew of _more_ space-traveling _fucked-up_ arrived. One of which spent the better part of their meeting wrestling with Doctor Wizard’s cloak.

Why was this his life?

He hadn’t been too concerned with the whole altercation, mainly because they were a bunch of rowdy stragglers he didn’t know and he was literally Iron Man. But then one of them got ahold of the kid and for some reason, that nearly sent Tony into a panic attack. Did he worry about the people who fought alongside him? Yes. Did his vision go red and lungs malfunction when one of them was held at gunpoint? Not exactly. Not like this. This was like having the oxygen torn out of the room.

Behaving for once in a way that wouldn’t get him killed, Peter had frozen once the man had gotten ahold of him. The only movement came from the optical adjustments in his suit, responding to his own eye movements. They widened at once, and Tony could almost see the flicker of fear passing over Peter’s face. It sent white-hot rage searing through his veins.

The man was speaking, voice steely with determination Tony didn’t yet understand. “I swear to you, I'm gonna french fry this little freak.” The muzzle of the gun pressed harder to the side of Peter’s head, tilting his neck over. The eyesights of his suit narrowed, flinching slightly.

Oh, _hell_ no. “Let’s do it—you shoot my son, and I’ll _blast_ him, let’s go!” The lower half of Tony’s arm slid into a sizzling weapon of his own with a menacing growl of metal.

The utter idiot at point-blank range beneath him shouted, “do it, Quill! I can take it.”

The weird alien with the glowing….antennae, jumped in her restraints. “No, he can’t take it!” she cried, the one smart move of this bunch.

“Wait, this weird-ass spider thing is your _son_?” The man—Quill?—squinted first at Tony, then at Peter in disbelief. Peter had gone stock-still, certainly not daring to move now.

Tony stiffened. It took him half a second to rerun his words over in his head and then the urge to blow off the head of the guy grew tenfold. _Shit_. “No, he’s not, but I’m still gonna—”

“But you _just_ said he was.”

“Yeah, I know what I said, thanks, asshole.”

Quill huffed, having the gall to roll his eyes in this situation. “Y’know what? Doesn't matter, I’m still gonna shoot his head off if you don’t tell me where Gamora is,” he chirped, finger flexing on the trigger.

“You touch him one more time with that gun, Baldy here's getting blown apart,” Tony growled.

“Drax can take it!’

“Um,” Peter ventured at last, headgear slipping off in a metallic _schlick_ , “I _highly doubt_ that he can…”

“Shut it, spider-boy!” Quill snapped. “I’m gettin’ really sick of—”

“You know, Quill, that _is_ kinda messed up when you think about it,” Drax whispered to him, as though there weren't four other people able to hear. His eyes darted from surefire death an inch from his nose to Quill and back again. “Shooting a guy’s son.”

Quill’s jaw clenched. “They took her.”

Tony wanted to shoot them all, now that he put his mind to it. “He is _not_ my son!”

“You said he was your son,” Drax pointed out helpfully.

“I heard it too,” antenna-girl added.

Quill took the gun from Peter’s head to gesture with it in exasperation. “I’m sorry, did we all just _forget_ why we showed up in this shithole to begin with?”

“Yeah, seriously, back to the life-threatening,” Tony muttered, feeling hot around the ears despite himself. From somewhere behind him came a quiet chuckle from Dr. Strange. Okay, Baldy first, then Doctor Jackass next.

Drax suddenly gave a loud gasp, making everyone jump and Quill swear under his breath. Gazing up at Tony with wide eyes, Drax pointed to him. “ _Ohhh_ , I see! You _feel_ like he’s your son!”

“Would you shut up?” Tony demanded. “I have a literal cannon leveled at your head.”

“And you didn’t mean to tell him!” Drax turned toward antenna-girl, a gleeful curve appearing to his lips. “He didn’t mean to tell him, Mantis!” He burst into laughter at that, Mantis joining in much more hesitantly.

Still in Quill’s grasp, Peter ducked his head and— _was that little shit smiling?_

Dr. Strange drew a bit closer to Tony, voice lowered under the laughter and Quill’s irritated attempts at order. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Peter minds.”

 _This is an out-of-body experience._ Tony raised a hand at him, index finger to his thumb, not bothering to look over his shoulder. “I am _this_ close to a gunfight with you, Strange.”

Finally, somewhere amid the chaos, Quill shouted, “ _All right!_ Everybody better shut it now and tell me where the hell Thanos is before I get any more pissed off!”

Dr. Strange straightened at once, glowing arcs of magic flickering. “Wait, what?”

 

**XxxxX**

 

Later, once they’d reached Titan and beaten some remnants of a plan into their skulls, Tony took Peter by the shoulder and dragged him away from the group. “Woah, hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter spluttered, as he was taken aside, just out of earshot of the rest. None of them seemed to notice, but there was a certain, smirky quirk to Dr. Strange’s mouth. Luckily, he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, hey kid, listen.” Tony took Peter by the shoulders and fixed him with a stern look. “This is serious crap here, okay? You weren't supposed to be here, but now you are, so whatever. We’ll work with it.”

Peter nodded importantly, squaring his shoulders. “I understand. I'll do my best, Mr. Stark, I promise. We can do this,” he added with a flash of a smile. There was that hint of hope, that optimism, and god, he was so young.

“Yeah, okay, you…do your thing,” Tony said, trying to mask how he was getting fucking choked up. He exhaled roughly, and tightened his grip on Peter’s shoulders. Risking a glance back at the others, he lowered his voice. “For the love of God, do what you're told, and if things go royally wrong, _you stay close to me_. We gotta keep him away from that stone—that's priority—but I'll be damned if he gets his hands on you, you understand?”

Peter nodded again, a little harder this time, sobered by Tony’s words. “Understood.”

“Good.” Tony gave him a clap on the shoulder before releasing him. When had being an Avenger been this hard?

He was about to walk away when Peter coughed a bit behind him. “Um. Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah?” Turning back, Tony gave him an expectant look. He blinked when he saw Peter biting his lip sheepishly, shifting his feet.

“Back on the ship, when you said…” Abruptly, Peter shook his head, glancing away. “N—never mind, it's stupid.”

The world felt two steps closer to falling apart. Tony stood for a long moment, considering. Then he strode back over and circled a protective hand around the back of Peter’s neck, coaxing him to make eye contact. “I'd be proud if you were,” he said simply, unable to say anything more. Peter’s eyes widened but before he could speak, Tony had stuck a hand on his head,ruffling his hair. “Don't let it go to your head,” he muttered, before walking determinedly away.

Behind him, Peter gazed after him, a delighted flush in his face as he fixed his messy hair.


End file.
